


you're heartless (and i'm full of affection)

by the__pigeon



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Traditional Self Harm, Or Is It?, Self-Harm, Touch-Starved, Unrequited Love, this turned out a lot gorier than expected, what can i say? remus is creative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the__pigeon/pseuds/the__pigeon
Summary: Remus makes a list of things he knows.One; he is very in love with Logan.Two; Logan doesnotlove him back
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	1. you make my heart feel like it's rotting in my chest

**Author's Note:**

> the title is named after the song by helena ruth which i would highly recommend listening to before reading this bc the vibe of that song is what i tried to make the vibe of this fic in general
> 
> also!! this is for my secret santa, lotus!! i really hope you enjoy :3
> 
> (also also my english teacher said my writing style is 'unique' and 'innovative' but im pretty sure she just meant it was completely incomprehensible, so enjoy this mess i guess dsjfdsj)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: idk how to describe it but a very severe wound but it's not described in a lot of detail but it is also still described, lots of blood n stuff, fainting, general remus gross stuff

Remus was by no accounts intelligent. It wasn’t that he was stupid, but he wasn’t smart either. But what he knew, he knew well.

And what he knew was this:

One; he was very, very, very in love with Logan.

He had thought he was in love before, but it wasn’t love. He had wanted to kill someone, he’d been horny, but this was… different. His once grotesque daydreams had started turning… soft. Which was new, but he wasn’t complaining. He was at first, but after a while he had just learnt to put up with it.

Two; Logan was very much not in love with him back.

It was expected. Remus had learnt to expect the expected, and well, this outcome sure was as expected as expected outcomes could get.

Three; Janus could pick him apart really well.

Which was, again, expected. It wasn’t like Remus had even bothered to try and hide his feelings, and Janus was really observant and could tell when he lied and it only took two and a half hours for him to pinpoint the cause of Remus’s sudden habit of zoning out with a wishful smile on his face and sighing dreamily.

Four; his pain tolerance was not as high as he originally thought it was.

He discovered the fourth one exactly thirteen hours after he figured out he was head over heels in love with Logan, as he lay on the ground, impaled in the chest with a very sharp rock that he had fallen onto after the branch he was sitting on had snapped in half.

So. He was in agony.

He wriggled upright, feeling the rock scratch around his insides, but he couldn’t bring himself any further up then he already was. He was stuck.

Five; the Imagination was something he shared with his brother.

He kept forgetting that. Mostly because they kept to their separate areas and didn’t bother the other, either out of respect, or fear, or… whatever, Remus didn’t really think about it too much. He didn’t think about anything too often.

Roman didn’t look impressed when he saw his brother, bleeding out to his death in a ditch in the middle of a flower field, but then again, Roman didn’t really look impressed at anything Remus did.

“I see you’ve been incapataticated,” was the first thing he said.

Remus grabbed the top of the rock, spinning himself around it like a rotisserie chicken to be looking in Roman’s direction. “It’s just a lil stab wound.”

He eyes Remus warily, probably expecting some sort of trick, which was a fair expectation but Remus lived to defy expectations, so he stayed where he was. “Well, can you get off? You’re getting blood over my flowers.”

“I dunno, I think the blood splatters add to the atmosphere,” Remus said, shrugging.

“Are you okay?” he said suddenly.

Remus blinked, staring at him. “What?”

“You’re, uh… your heart is kinda yellow.”

Huh, yeah, it kinda was. Actually, it was very yellow. Disgusting. Remus reached down to poke his hand into his chest (the rock had slowly opened the hole more and more so it gave him easy access) and started to pull at his own heart.

Six; Roman liked to pretend he hated him.

It had to be pretend, because the second Remus began to pull his heart out of his own chest, Roman lunged forward, grabbing his hands to stop him.

“Hold on, you-” He bent down, pushing Remus up. The rock continued to scrape at his insides. You need to get out of this.”

After what felt like seconds but was probably more like minutes, Roman had hoisted Remus up and away from the rock, leaning him against the tree he had fallen from.

“Can I ask why you were being impaled by that rock?” he said, crouching to get eye level with his brother, who was currently trying to not faint.

“I fell out of a tree,” Remus answered.

“Why was the rock there? This is a wildflower field, and you definitely placed that rock there on purpose.”

He shrugged again. He had placed the rock there, but he wasn’t going to tell Roman that, and he honestly didn’t know why, but then again, Remus wasn’t intelligent and he was fine with that.

Seven; having a rotten heart made being alive very painful.

His body spasmed as the hole in his chest tightened—literally. He fell forwards, reaching for something to keep him upright and meeting his brother’s shoulders which he grabbed onto perhaps too tight. He coughed, and discolored yellow blood fell out, joining his normal red blood on the flowers surrounding them.

“Wow!” he crowed, voice still wheezy from literally coughing up yellow blood. And maybe a large, sharp rock impaling his lungs might have something to do with that.

“No, not wow!” Roman countered, frantically trying to get Remus to sit back up. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“A lot!”

“No, I-”

He was cut off as Remus’ body went fully limp and his eyes closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me at the start of this: i think the list will reach up to maybe twenty by the end  
> the list at the end: somehow? fifty? points long? how did i let this happen
> 
> anyway this fic got very out of hand very quickly but my beta said it's fine so. hopefully. its fine


	2. im never at my best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: vague sex mentions and continuous talk of remus' injury from last chapter

Eight; he could smell Logan in his sleep.

The smell of a book from a library, and freshly showered hair, and that weird scent that was kinda salty, kinda fruity, slightly musky, but overwhelmingly Logan-y.

Hm. That was kind of creepy.

Wait, why was he smelling Logan?

Remus bolted to sit up—he was lying down?—frantically trying to see wherever he was, but he was stopped on his way up by a force holding down his wrists.

“Ooh, kinky,” he said, mostly out of habit. His voice still sounded very strained.

“I apologise,” a much-too familiar voice said and Remus felt his heart beat just that little bit faster. “Any sudden movements could reopen your wounds.”

Huh? What was happening? Where was he?

Nine; it was easier to know what was happening when you opened your eyes.

Remus was… not in Logan’s bedroom, which was actually his first thought, but rather in a bland, white room reminiscent of a hospital room. All that was in it was himself, Logan (who was sitting on a chair nearby with a blank, emotionless face), and Roman (who was standing near the door, looking at Remus with a face filled with disgust and, oddly enough, concern).

Logan lifted his hands and the weight around Remus’ wrists loosened. Oh. “Less kinky,” he said, still out of habit.

“Well, I’m here to fix the gaping hole in your chest, not ‘get you off’, as they say,” Logan said matter-of-factly.

Remus couldn’t deny he liked the attention, so he decided against pointing out the fact that they were all imaginary and they could easily just snap it healed. “Very well, doctor.”

Two; Logan was very much not in love with him.

That was immediately obvious when Logan rolled his eyes, looking away to write something in a notebook with a very unimpressed look on his face.

“You could try it again,” Roman piped up.

“Try what?” Remus asked.

He walked into the centre of the room, dramatically holding his hands out, determined, and snapped his fingers in Remus’ direction.

Nothing happened.

Oh. So that's why they weren’t snapping.

“I’ve told you this already, Roman,” Logan said flatly, still writing in his cute, little notebook. Remus wanted to sit up and grab it, to see what he was writing, but his chest was genuinely in a lot of pain. Usually he liked pain. He did not like this pain. “His condition does not appear one of his usual antics. I fear this one may’ve been caused by something out of our control.”

“Like what?”

“I have no clue.” He suddenly turned to look back at Remus. “Do you know of anything happening to you currently that could result in a physical manifestation of some sort of heart ailment?”

He looked at his chest, where his heart was still yellow and rotting.

...His heart was rotting.

“I can think of a few things,” Remus said.

“Can you list some?”

Having a rotten heart was one thing, but the pit that suddenly opened in his chest was a different type of pain, one that he… he feared? No, that can’t be right. Remus didn’t feel fear, so why couldn't he just answer Logan’s question-

Ten; shame was an emotion Remus had not felt before, and did not want to feel ever again.  
He shrugged as a response, and Logan somehow looked even more unimpressed, and jotted something down in his notebook again.

Roman’s concern became almost more evident. “You don’t want to say?”

Darn him and probably being somehow connected to his emotions in a stupid twin telepathy cliche that neither really bothered to figure out more on because up until this point both had fervently avoided the other. “Nah,” he said.

He glanced at Logan, and they seemed to say something silently.

Logan turned back to face him. “This information could be helpful in helping us heal-”

“Hah, psyche!” he said before he could stop himself (not that he would try to), as he forced himself to his feet, shoving Logan’s shoulder perhaps a little too aggressively. “I’m fine!”

The push must’ve been too aggressive because Logan fell to the floor.

Remus immediately felt bad (which, again, was a very new emotion, and, just like shame, he didn’t like it. He liked being bad, but this- this was different and he _hated it_ ), and before he could do something even worse he sunk out and collapsed onto the carpet of the living room in the Dark Side.

Yup, Remus was very, very dumb, and that was maybe starting to ruin his life. All he wanted to do was do all the cute sappy stuff that Normal Romance™ did, but he was ruining it by being so… bad.

“If you want to mope, at least do it on the couch so I don’t step on you.”

Remus let out a strangled groan in response, but it was muffled since he was lying face down in very thick carpet.

Three; Janus could pick him apart really well.

“Still upset over Logan?”

Another groan.

“You know you could just… talk to him?”

Another groan. The mix of just having a gaping hole in his chest, having a literally rotten heart (and also rotten blood, which was a lovely idea and Remus made note to do that more often), and the fact that he was currently trying to suffocate himself in the carpet made it very difficult to stay conscious.

“If you faint, I’ll clean your room.”

He lifted his head, just long enough to say, “Empty threats,” and then he promptly returned to trying to suffocate himself.

Eleven; Janus was stronger than he let on.

He grabbed the back of Remus’ shirt, the weird, frilly collar part, and yanked him to his feet, summoning a few extra pair of hands to help keep him standing upright as all of the (rotten) blood rushed to his head. Remus may’ve been a considerable amount taller, but Janus didn’t even blink twice as he lifted his whole weight with one hand.

“I will not have you dying in the middle of the lounge room,” he said.

“I don’t think we _can_ die, Jannie.”

“You know I’m not taking that risk.”

True. Twelve; Janus is not one to take (uncalculated) risks.

“So what?” Remus said, letting himself hang limply in his friend’s hold. “You’re just gonna chuck me in my room, call it a day?”

“No, I’m going to tuck you in and read you a bedtime story and watch you sleep.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Get your mind out of-”

He stopped walking, and talking, and Remus was suddenly facing Janus, who’s eyes were not looking at his.

“Hey, my eyes are up here, J-Anus.”

“What happened to your chest?” he said flatly.

Remus looked down. The front of his shirt was completely ruined, ripped, teared, a giant gaping hole and whatnot, and he still had yellow _and_ red blood stains all over him.

“Oh, I was impaled,” Remus answered.

“How?”

“I fell on a rock in the Imagination.”

There was obviously something Janus wanted to say then, but he didn’t speak, just continued carrying Remus towards his room by the scruff of his shirt. Remus let him, humming a bit just to fill the silence. 

He did actually tuck Remus in, pulling the blanket up to his chin and summoning a chair nearby to sit down.

“Wait, you’re actually going to watch me sleep?” Remus said.

“No, I’m going to stay until you are asleep, because there is still a scar on your chest and you look close to fainting and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Aww.”

His face still remained overwhelmingly neutral. “Aww,” he deadpanned.

“So,” he said. “No bedtime story?”

“Go to sleep, Remus. You need it.”

Remus looked up at his ceiling. It was no use continuing to bug Janus, because he was probably not going to budge until Remus fell asleep, and he was the least fun person to annoy because he wasn’t bothered by anything and uggghh.

He ‘hmph’ed, forcibly closing his eyes dramatically and staying as still as possible for as long as he could. 

Eventually, he hears the door open and close, and when he opens his eyes, Janus is gone.


	3. suffocate my woes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: mentions of blood, suffocation, more continuous mentions of remus' injury (basically the injury is talked about throughout the whole fic so like), kind of panic attack

Thirteen (Remus’ third favourite number); sleeping is difficult.

Apparently it wasn’t difficult for everyone else, but Remus always struggled. He wasn’t sure if that was because technically the Sides didn’t need to sleep so really what was the point or whether it was just… how he was. His brain was loud, and usually that didn’t bother him because he was awake so it didn’t matter.

But falling asleep was difficult.

He sat up, glaring at whatever monstrosity was currently in front of his bed. Janus turned the lights off before leaving so he couldn’t see what it was, but he was relatively certain it was covered in blood.

Mmm, blood. He had lost a lot of blood lately. He didn’t know how to get it back.

Before he could make any plans to find his blood, there was a knock on his door. Janus, he assumed.

“I’m asleep!” he yelled loudly.

The door opened, and a familiar silhouette stuck his head in. “You’re not.”

Goddammit.

“Hi, Lo,” Remus said, much more quietly than before.

Logan slowly inched into his room, looking around like he was dissecting a rat in a laboratory instead of visiting someone's room for the first time. It felt… nice to be under his scrutiny, in a weird way.

Fourteen; Remus was really desperate for attention, apparently. Obviously.

“Hello, Remus,” Logan said.

Remus got out of bed, but after he stood up, he was suddenly… not standing up anymore? Ah, he must’ve momentarily fainted. He was sure that was normal.

And also Logan was holding him, gripping the top of his arms firmly as he lowered the Duke back to sit down. He was warm. Really warm. Burning warm. The burning was enjoyable. 

“What?” Logan said, making no move to remove his hands.

Oh, he must’ve said that out loud. He shrugged. “You touching me hurts.”

He obviously wanted to say something, but in a freak of nature sort of way, he stays quiet. He only lets go of Remus once he’s sure he won't fall over again. 

“So, what brings good old Logey to my room?” Remus said, and he somewhat tries to sound casual, but it doesn’t really work that well.

“You are very obviously facing some kind of physical ailment that is causing you pain,” Logan explained. “For Thomas’ optimal performance, it’s important that each and every side is fully operational, and your pain seems to affect him.”

Fifteen; Logan puts Thomas’ wellbeing above anyone else's. How sad.

“I am fully operational,” Remus said. For extra effect, he quickly added an eyebrow wiggle, and the closest he could get to a lenny face.

“Is that so?”

“What, do you want to test it out?”

Logan shook his head. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course I am-”

Sixteen; lying is _difficult._

“-I’m just my typical disturbing self!”

He smiled a much too wide, far too toothy grin. Logan didn’t seem bothered about how terrifying it was. Huh.

“If you’re quite sure,” he said.

Remus nodded enthusiastically, and he could literally feel how his blood sloshed around in his veins, but that was probably normal so he ignored it.

Logan looked at him. Watched. Stared. The way a teacher stares a group of kids they feel like are about to fight. A blank disgust and anticipation of something troublesome.

“Very well then,” he said eventually, and finally looked away. “I will be on my way.”

He stood up, and walked out. He barely looked back.

Seventeen; Remus is very self destructive.

He knew this. He knew this very well. Making people feel pain was fun, but if there was no one around, he could just hurt himself. It was fun! It had always been fun! His pain tolerance was high (or so he thought. Point number four proved that) and pain was fun.

Self destruction was fun! And Remus was… not feeling the best after that conversation with Logan, so he looked for the closest thing he could use to hurt himself. He grabbed his pillow and shoved his face in it, pulling it as tight as he could around his head until he couldn’t breathe.

Eighteen; Janus did care about him, no matter how cold his exterior.

Much more than eight hands wrapped around him, pulling the pillow away, picking him up from his bed and sitting him upright. A different pair of hands gently laid a rather heavy blanket around his shoulders.

Eighteen (and a half); Janus was very good at caring about him.

The Heavy Blanket™ felt surprisingly nice, like he was being crushed and his bones were going to shatter, and it was very comforting. The pillow was thrown to the other side of the room, so Remus literally couldn’t reach it. The familiar scent of honey lavender and burnt eggs was all around him, and forced the scent of libraries, and freshly showered hair, and that weird scent that was kinda salty, kinda fruity, slightly musky, but overwhelmingly Logan-y out.

He was surrounded, and it… was nice.

“Remember to breathe, Remus,” Janus said softly.

Despite how much he didn’t want to, he did, and the aching in his chest began to soften. The pain, on the other hand, didn’t.

“Would you like to explain yourself, or would you rather try and go to sleep?”

“I hate Logan,” Remus announced loudly, and without hesitation.

Janus nodded, humming, and it was clear they both knew he was lying.

“And my heart is full of yellow blood,” he added. “And I prefer yellow to red, but it is also kinda really a lot painful, just a little bit.”

“A rotten heart,” Janus said wisely.

He pouted. “A rotten heart. It sounds fun, right?”

“Right,” he lied. “I’m sure you’re having a wonderful time.”

“Pain is fun.” He looked behind him at the pillow still on the floor. “I think so, at least.”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, and you’re no fun.”

He glared at Remus.

Remus stared back.

Of course, they were both stubborn, and a few minutes passed of their staring contest (snakes don't need to blink, so Janus was fine, and Remus just refused to close his eyes. If it started to hurt, he convinced himself the hurt was enjoyable) before Remus grew ancy enough to give in.

“Fiiine,” he groaned, falling backwards into bed. “I’ll take care of myself.”

Truthfully, he just didn’t want to see Janus disappointed in him. Maybe he should make a change to point fourteen (Remus was really desperate for attention in that he would take any attention, good or bad); he was desperate for attention from Logan more so than anyone else. Apparently. He really wanted Janus to like him.

“I’m not leaving until you are _absolutely_ asleep,” Janus said, and his face softened. “Is that okay, Remus?”

He nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Janus and his many arms set to work at laying The Heavy Blanket™ on top of him, tucking him in and gently placing the pillow under his head.

Nineteen; maybe the Sides do need to sleep, because damn if Remus didn’t nearly fall asleep right then and there, he was so _exhausted._

Janus summoned a chair (and quickly dusted off anything… suspicious), sitting down beside his bed. “Go to sleep, dear.”

Even though he wanted to stay awake now that he was given orders to sleep, Remus compiled, simply because he really was exhausted. To be fair, he had felt like fainting for the past few hours, so that might’ve affected it. Ah, yes, he had forgotten about his rotten heart. It was like an iron deficiency only it was nothing like that and super painful.

He could feel Janus nearby. A comforting feeling. Safe.

He closed his eyes (but not before giving Janus a pointed pout, if only to try and show he _wanted_ to defy) and waited until he fell asleep.


	4. shades of pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: more gorey stuff, lots of talk of death and murder, intrusive thoughts (who'd've thunk), panic attack. also its all a dream and my beta told me to add here that it could potentially trigger derealisation at some scenes

“I’m in love with you.”

“I am not.”

One, two; tick.

Remus pulled his bouquet of flowers back (it was dead and wilted, drooping out of the baking paper he used to wrap it all up. It was also kind of bleeding, but that was on purpose, because of course it was. It was Remus, and if he was giving a gift to Logan, it needed to perfectly represent him as a Side) and pouted. “Why not?”

“Because I feel no emotion,” Logan said, just as coldly as he always spoke.

He nodded. “I know.”

Logan did not move.

Twenty; Logan is heartless.

“Do you at least want the flowers?” Remus said, once again pushing the bouquet forward. An offering. A peace offering? He didn’t really know what the point of this was anymore. “I spent a lot of energy on them.”

“No.”

Twenty.

Remus dropped the flowers and they disappeared. “Okeeey.”

It’s fine. He could try again another time. He was after all, full of affection. Put that one down as twenty-one. Remus is full of affection.

He looked up from the place on the floor where the roses disappeared, back up at Logan, who was still, conveniently, standing where he was before.

But for some reason they weren’t standing in the doorway to Logan’s room anymore, but rather in the kitchen in the Light Side’s common room. Interesting.

“What are you still doing here?” Logan said.

“You make my heart feel like it’s rotting in my chest,” Remus said, as if that was any explanation. Mostly, he just wanted to say it to Logan’s face. He needed to say something.

“Your heart _is_ rotting,” he corrected.

“It’s painful.”

“I’d assume so.”

“Would you like it?”

“Would I like what?”

Remus began to unbutton his shirt. Logan didn’t react. “My heart.”

“No.”

He paused in his tracks, and ceased the whole clawing-frantically-at-his-chest thing he was in the middle off. “Oh.”

He re-buttoned up his shirt, and when he looked up they were in Remus’ room. How did they get there so suddenly? Sure, they could sink in and out, but he never sunk out? How?

…

Ah.

“Oh, I’m dreaming,” he said.

Logan raised an eyebrow—his first show of emotion. “Are you?”

He shrugged. “Why else would you still be talking to me?”

“An astute observation. I would not normally be talking to you since you have nothing of value to say to me.”

Twenty.

“Well, since this is a dream, do you wanna smash?”

“You’re disgusting.”

He grinned, sharp and blinding. “I know.”

Remus blinked and Logan was gone. Damn. Now he was sad. It may have just been a dream, but that didn’t change the fact he already missed him.

Well, now what should he do? He was in a dream where he had full control over everything… ooh, full control.

He turned away from his room, walking down the hallway. With every footstep that echoed down the hall, a new thought popped into his head. Get dream-Logan again, skin him, and crawl inside Yuri style.

_Step._

Bring a sledgehammer and flatten dream-Logan into a coat to be worn at all times. A permanent hug of sorts.

_Step._

Light the whole mindscape on fire and watch with glee as he smoked everyone out and found dream-Logan at the exit and perform a faux version of ‘Our Love is God’.

_Step._

Cover his face with a pillow until he choked to death.

_Step._

Bake an explosive into a cake and present it for dream-Logan’s birthday.

_Step._

Gift him with a bouquet of roses and stab him with the thorns.

_Step._

Take him on a lovely cliff-side date and push him off the edge.

_Step._

Draw him a picture in blood.

_Step._

Give him a gift.

_Step._

Take him on a date.

_Step._

A kiss.

He stopped walking. Every idea came too quickly for him to actually enact any one of them.

Come on, Remus, think. Just do something. Just _one_ thing.

This is frankly pathetic on your end,” dream-Logan said as he reappeared at Remus’ side.

Remus didn’t think, and just did the first thing that came to mind. He grabbed dream-Logan’s hand, holding it tightly in his own. It felt synthetic.

Dream-Logan stared at their intertwined hands. “Like I said; pathetic.”

“It’s not like I’m disagreeing with you here, Dream-gan.”

“That was a terrible nickname.”

“We both know I’m not good at anything, so it’s fitting.”

Dream-gan nodded.

Remus rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand. Still synthetic.

“What will you do now?”

_Skin him, hit him, burn him, choke him, explode him, stab him, push him, draw him, date him, kiss him, kill him-_

“I don’t know,” he said, letting his thoughts fade into background noise. “Why don’t you decide?”

“I’m not real, Remus. My thoughts are yours. Anything I say is just something you make me say, therefore any decision I make is just an extension of yours.”

Yeah, Remus wasn’t smart enough for this.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, mostly because that was the last (reasonable) thought he could remember thinking of.

“You can do whatever you want. I’m not real.”

He wrapped his free hand around Dream-gan’s tie and pulled him down until they were face to face and kissed him.

It also felt synthetic. Remus had only kissed one person before, and that was Virgil, back when they were dumb teenagers and Remus was curious and Virgil had said yes and, sure, it was awkward (during, and after. Virgil didn’t talk to him for a while), but it at least felt good.

This didn’t feel good. It didn't feel like anything. Synthetic. Fake. It was… empty.

When he pulled away, he frowned.

Dream-gan stared down at him. “Why are you frowning? Is that not what you wanted?”

It… wasn’t. It really wasn’t. As much as kissing Logan sounded great and perfect and ideal and wonderful, it wasn’t what he wanted. It was. But it also wasn’t.

“You’re overthinking this,” Dream-gan stated simply.

“This is a completely normal amount of thinking,” Remus tried to counter.

“Not for you, it isn’t.”

He was right, as Logan always was.

“It was,” he admitted, but he hesitated. Lying is difficult, so why bother? “I… I thought it was.”

Dream-gan began to walk away.

Remus blinked. “Where are you going?”

“Where you want me to go.”

The hallway stretched on and on, and Dream-gan walked without looking back.

Twenty.

Remus waited approximately two seconds before he began to run after him.

“I don’t want to be alone again,” he said.

“This is a dream. You’re asleep, alone. Janus said he’d leave as soon as you were asleep, and you’re asleep now. You are alone. Alone. Alone.”

Alone.

Remus walked by his side and made a conscious decision not to leave it. “Still don’t want it.”

“Yet you deserve it.”

Twenty.

He frowned. “I’m going to stab you in the leg now.”

Dream-gan nodded. “Very well.”

Remus summoned a dagger (it was coated black and had a vibrant green gem in the hilt. It was the one he used to stab Roman a few years back. He had saved it, because he liked to cherish that memory) and stabbed Dream-gan in the thigh. In a completely unrealistic but very satisfying way to watch, blood spurted out, hitting the other side of the wall. 

Remus watched with glee.

Twenty-two; Remus is very disturbed.

Dream-gan reached a hand down to gently touch the wound. “Interesting how you get more joy out of that then kissing me.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

When he looked down again, the wound had completely healed.

_Stab him again._

He shook his head until the thought had rattled around enough it died.

“Is there anything else you’d like to do now, Remus?”

He stared at Dream-gan’s leg for a few more seconds before finally making eye contact again.

“I could cut your head off,” he offered.

“You could.”

Dream-gan watched him. Anticipating his next move. He may have been just an outstretch of Remus’ thoughts, but even Remus didn’t know what he wanted to do next.

So they stared at each other.

_Bury him, fuck him, cook him, hold him, scratch him, hug him, defenestrate him, decapitate him, leave him, keep him, kiss him, kill him-_

“Do you think you could die?” Dream-gan said, thankfully interrupting his thoughts, though his voice was suddenly solemn and quiet.

Remus stared straight ahead. They had been walking down the hallway for a while now, towards the Light section, but it still seemed so far away.

“No,” he answered. “If we’re not living, we can’t die.”

“Then why were Janus and Logan and Roman worried about you?”

“They were worried about Thomas, and by extension, me.”

“But you can’t die, so why are they worried?”

Silence. So heavy you could suffocate in it all.

“They’re not,” Remus said quietly.

Twenty-three; they’re not.

Dream-gan hummed. “A shame really.” Remus felt like there were bees in his ears canals.

“You’ll be alone when you wake up.”

They were going through to his brain. Is that how the human ears are built? Probably not, but he could still feel them travelling down through to his brain, stingers at the ready.

“Janus left. Logan doesn’t care. Roman hates you. Patton despises you. And Virgil wants nothing to do with you.”

Each bee hit against brain like a bullet against his head, ricochetting around, echoing as his thoughts got louder and louder and louder and louder and louder and

_Kill him._

“Bees are a stupid metaphor for a panic attack.”

_Kiss him._

“Are you even listening to me?”

_Kill him._

“You’re disgusting.”

_Kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him._

“Just pick something.”

_Kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him,kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him._

“Twenty-three.”

Twenty.

_Kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kill him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him-_

And then he woke up.

He woke up with a start, flailing around and pushing desperately to get whatever a thousand pound weight was on top of him off so he could move freely. He immediately looked to his side, searching desperately in the dark of his room for Janus, but there was nothing. The familiar scent of honey lavender and burnt eggs was gone, the sound of steady, calm breathing was gone, the feeling of calmness, of safety was gone.

He summoned a light. His room was, as always, filled with anything and everything, every half-made thought thrown around hectically, but it was empty. There was no Janus.

Alone.

Twenty-three. 

A sudden jolt of pain shot through him, shaking all the way from his toes to his head, leaving a grating feeling down his spine. Ah, his rotting heart. So painful.

He wanted it _gone_. He hated it, it was sickening, it was painful, it was painful, painful, painful. All it did was serve as a reminder. He hated remembering it. He wanted it gone.

Desperate, like a crab climbing out of the bucket, he started clawing. He ripped through his shirt, scratching at his chest. Blood dripped down his hands and pooled in his lap, and it smelt like gasoline and spoiled cheese and it was a colour of yellow so gross it made him want to throw something, want to hit something, want to do something to get rid of it. He was disgusted by it.

He wanted it _gone._

He started to feel light-headed. That must’ve meant it was working. He was getting rid of the rotten blood, and that was good!

He kept going, kept scratching.

The skin on his chest was completely torn.

He was so lightheaded and the bees were so loud.

He fainted.


	5. you're so perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: gore n stuff, panic attack, my 'unique' writing style really shows itself off at the end

Remus had never been in Logan’s room before, with Logan knowing at least, so this was new.

It was relatively small, at least in comparison to the few rooms Remus had seen. His own was of course ever changing, but it was bigger than Thomas’ real house and Janus’ had more rooms than he cared to count and Roman’s was large and expansive and last he checked had two floors, but Logan’s room looked to be just the one room.

He was lying in Logan’s bed, a small, clean bed with a pattern-less indigo blanket. The room was decoration-less. Blank. Twenty. 

When he tried to sit up, to try and find where the hell Logan is, every blood vessel in his body contracted and he slumped backwards.

Twenty-four; Logan’s room was rather comfortable.

His bed was, at the very least. A lot of it was bland, which was very much not to Remus’ tastes, but it was perfectly Logan-y that he couldn’t even be bothered about it.

“--again?”

Remus perked his head up, which was a jarring movement and made him want to vomit a bit, but he did it regardless, looking in the direction of where he had heard the voice. The door. It sounded a bit like Roman.

“I just---ike---fainted.”

Janus?

“--you--might-- thing to do--Logan?”

He could hear that word, clear as day.

“What? --obvious--?”

“--wouldn’t--past him. Gore--been like--”

“--just hope--okay.”

“Same.”

Something in his chest panged. It felt… new.

“--sorry--were--worried.”

“--appreciate--concern--you can--now.”

Logan.

Remus threw his head back on his pillow. It felt like his brain hit the back of his skull.

The door opened and the familiar sound of Logan’s footsteps echoed throughout the mostly empty room.

“Are you awake?” he calls out to the empty room, as if it's routine.

“Unfortunately,” Remus answers, as if it's routine.

The footsteps hesitate, and eventually he sees Logan standing by the side of his bed, face still blanker than his room.

“Janus has informed me that you were lying when you told Roman and I you were okay,” he said.

Remus looked at anything other than his face.

“He has also informed me that something appears to be amiss with your circulatory system. I would like to take a look at that at your nearest convenience.”

Logan had a very nice bookshelf. Black shelves, no clutter. All the books were lined up in colour order. It was nice to look at.

“I am aware you probably don’t trust me,” he continued. “And I am willing to take any extra needs you have into account once I am given the opportunity to examine whatever it is that is hurting you. As I said earlier, you are a necessary component of Thomas, and anything that hurts you may eventually find a way to hurt Thomas.”

Red book, red book, red book, orange book. Is that book orange or brown? The next one in yellow.

“...If my presence is making you uncomfortable, I can go get Janus for you. Anything to make this experience less… uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable. Not a word Remus would use for this ‘experience’ but it did come remarkably close.

“If you’re wondering why you’re in my room and not your own, it’s because Janus told me that staying in your room can have… adverse effects, and I wanted to avoid that.”

There were a lot of green books. At least ten. Maybe even twenty.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I want to make it clear that I am not going to hurt you or make any effort to hurt you. In the event of me breaching any boundaries or making you, as I said, uncomfortable, it would be to both our benefits if you inform me and I will take my leave at your behest. In the event that you would prefer someone else, I-”

“You’re so perfect,” Remus said.

Logan blinked.

Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue.

Twenty-five; Logan’s eyes are blue.

They were also staring at him, more intently than before. It was nice to be looked at, which was a sad thing to think about if he thought about it for too long, so he decided to think about anything else.

There was one purple book. Then a lot of black ones, and even more brown ones, which probably meant the one before was orange. How nice to know.

“Are you okay?” Logan said, and his voice sounded so soft. So gentle. So… tender. Like a chicken.

“No.”

He hesitated. “What is it? How can I help?”

Twenty-six; Logan lied when he said he was bad at acting.

Remus shook his head. “I can’t say.”

“That’s very unlike you.”

Twenty-seven; shame was a bitch.

Remus shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Can I guess?”

“I won’t stop you.”

“Are you dying?”

_Twenty-three. They don’t care. They don’t. They don’t. They don’t. They don’t._

“We can’t die.”

“We don’t know that.”

Remus shrugged again.

“Does Janus know what’s happening?”

“Yeah. Point three.”

“What?”

Stupid Remus, no one else knows about the list! And it’d be best to stay that way.

He settled for shrugging once again.

“Are you… nervous?”

“I’m not nervous, I’ve just got a rotting heart,” he stated simply.

Pardon?”

Twenty-eight; pain is painful, very, very painful. Ouchy ouchy, no pain. Remus doesn’t like pain. Doesn’t like how sudden and overbearing it is.

“-mus? Remus? Can you hear me?”

Twenty-nine; ouch ouch ouch ouch his heart is literally convulsing how is thinking so painful ouch ouch-

“Hold on, I’m gonna--find you--thing to help--you're in pain--need--”

Thirty; Logan’s so warm, so comfortable, so tender, so reassuring, so soft.

“--try--stay awake--are--when--”

Thirty-one; skin mhm skin feels good and Logan is very warm and Remus just wants to fall asleep against him.

“--mus? Remus--need you--awake--can--”

Thirty-two; its so hard to think when you’re in so much pain, so much pain, so much.

“--don’t--I can’t--Janus would be--”

Thirty-three; why did he base the list off of numbers? He’s gay, he can’t count. And wow, he’s already at thirty-three. Guess he knew more than he originally thought.

“--you need--Janus? If--get Roman--anything--comforta--help--”

Thirty-four; Janus, Roman, Janus Roman. What does it matter? Neither of them care about him. Not really, at least. Janus probably only liked him out of necessity. They were all they had left. And Roman…

“--symptoms--cardio--cular illness--don’t know--help--”

Thirty-five; they should really look more into that twin-telepathy thing the two of them have. That might come in handy one day. Like today, as Remus is probably dying.

“--Remus--”

Thirty-six; Roman Roman Roman Roman Roman help help.

“--Remus?--”

Thirty-seven; lord help wherever Roman is, because if they really do have twin telepathy his mind is being filled with nothing but the word ‘help’ over and over again.

“--heart--”

Thirty-eight; and over and over and over and over and over again.

“--why--”

Thirty-nine; Roman, help. You’re the romantic one. How is this supposed to work? What is he doing wrong? Why does it hurt so much? Why why why why why.

“--Remus?--”

Fourty; help.

He reaches for the first thing he sees—a knife. Why was there a knife by Logan’s bed? Who knows, but what Remus does know is that it’s able to make the pain go away, to make everything fade to black, to make the shame tolerable again.

He stabs himself, straight in the chest. Straight through the heart.

And another chapter ends with Remus fainting.


	6. it's nothing but affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: just more stuff about remus' injury but this chapter is pretty chill :)

Forty-one; when all else fails, self-destruction is always the best answer.  
…

Where is Logan?

“I’m right here.”

Remus jumped upwards at the “sudden” sound, scrambling to get away because for some reason his brain was on very High Alert and this was Danger and-

Something pushed him back down. A familiar push. His brother. They pushed each other a lot. They were, of course, siblings.

“I… explained the situation to Logan. As best as I could. I didn’t want to speak for you, but I think I got the, y’know, general gist, I suppose is the right words for it.”

Forty-two; Roman talks more the more nervous he is.

Remus lets himself relax. Maybe if _he_ relaxes, Roman will relax too… right?

“Before I leave, can you promise me one thing, Remus?”

He wished he had the energy to open his eyes and see Roman’s face. It’d probably be easy to make fun of. He keeps his eyes closed and nods.

“No more hurting yourself.”

Six; Roman liked to pretend he hated him.

It was pretend. He… cared.

…

He feels the pressure against him soften slowly, then leave. The familiar sound of Roman’s boots tapping against soft carpet echoed throughout the room until a door closed and he was gone.

Was he… alone again?

He rolled ever so slightly to his side. There was a weight nearby, probably someone sitting on the bed.

Oh, yeah, Logan was still here.

“Hi,” he said weakly. His voice sounded hoarse, broken. Every part of him had taken such a beating the past twenty-four hours, even his voice felt strained.

“Hello Remus,” he said. So soft. So gentle. “I… I’m sorry.”

Remus couldn’t bring himself to speak. Could barely bring himself to stay awake. His chest ached so much, so much, so much.

“Roman tried to explain, but I don’t know…” he trailed off.

Forty-three; Logan doesn’t know everything.

Remus hums softly. How… reassuring that knowledge is.

“I want to apologise for whatever I did that made you uncomfortable.”

What?

“I must’ve failed to realise how much you hated me; a foolish oversight on my part.”

Forty-three, forty-three, forty-three. Code red, Remus grade A fucked up by a _lot_ oh fuck how did he manage this one?

“I thought that… I suppose I thought I could make you like me? A stupid hypothetical, I know, but I just… I just hoped.”

Forty-four; how did you fuck up this badly? Say something, speak, you made such a big mistake this time, apologise, apologise, apologise-

“If there’s anything I can get you before I leave, I’ll do so, but I will be leaving. I just hoped that…”

Remus couldn’t speak. He literally couldn’t speak, why, why, why. He hated the silence so much, but he’s never hated it quite as much as he hated it right now. He needs to say something, anything, to try and tell Logan that he was wrong, that it wasn’t hate, it was never hate, it was pure love, pure affection.

It’s nothing but affection.

…

Logan doesn’t say anything for the longest time. Too long. The bees, they’re so loud.

The mattress evens out as Logan stands up. “Understood. I’ll be-”

He doesn’t think, he never does, he just acts and he does whatever he wants to and there’s a weird sense of deja vu, but he ignores it, grabbing a hold of Logan’s hands and trying to pull him back down, despite how weak his arms are.

He doesn’t pull Logan back down to him, but the pressure of his hand must’ve made him stay.

Forty-five; skin skin skin touch touch touch. Very nice. Remus likes it. Misses it.

“Remus?”

His head feels lighter. “Logan.”

“You can let go if you want.”

“I don’t want.”

He feels Logan nod. Ever so softly. “That’s okay.”

His head feels so light headed but he can finally think.

Forty-six; fuck bees.

“Are you…” Logan begins, but he doesn’t finish.

“My chest hurts.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m sorry.”

Forty-seven; apologising hurts.

“For what?”

“For hurting you.”

Forty-eight; it’s better to hurt yourself, than to hurt others… Yeah, that sounds about right.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears his brother chiding him.

“It’s just,” he continues, and he feels his throat start to close up. Is he dying? How fun. “It’s just… you’re heartless.”

Forty-nine; telling the truth isn’t meant to hurt, so why does it sting so much?

“And I’m just… full of love. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Logan stared at him.

“I thought… you hated me?”

Fifty; Logan… _doesn’t_ hate him?

Don’t think, just act. Just speak. “How could I hate _you?”_

A soft feeling gently presses against his chest, against the now closed stab wound all the way from chapter one. It was so gentle. He felt his heart lurch in his chest, but in a Good Way.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have jumped to such drastic conclusions,” he hears Logan say softly. “I hope you don’t mind my mindless assumptions.”

“Why would I mind?” Remus said. He slowly reached his hand from where it rested at his side to on top of Logan’s. “Apparently I did that too.”

Fifty-one; Logan’s smile is enough to make him feel like his whole body was set on fire but in the absolutely best way possible. The smile he gave him is… small, but it’s enough. Enough to make him feel the burn so vividly.

“Is that so?” He sounded skeptical.

“I don’t hate you,” he said. While he speaks, he weasels his fingers in between Logan’s, and the touch is so intoxicatingly, painfully addicting. “I actually quite like you. A lot. More than should probably be healthy. I’m pretty sure I’m just in love with you.”

Logan was completely still. It was too quiet. Much too quiet. Remus had to fill the quiet.

“That’s a lie, actually. I _know_ I’m in love with you. I am very, very, very in love with you. So much that it literally hurts sometimes and I wanted to tell you but apparently I feel shame like everyone else does, which is something I only learnt yesterday, so I didn’t really do a good job at telling you.”

Logan watched him. As Remus spoke, he slowly rubbed his thumb along the back of his hand. The touch hurt, and he couldn’t get enough.

“I wanted to tell you, because I wanted an answer. I don’t know what answer I want, but at this point I think I’ll take any. I just need… closure.”

Fifty-two; all good things must come to an end.

He opened his eyes, looking up at Logan. So blue. Waiting for the show to drop.

“I think I might’ve misunderstood what Roman told me,” Logan said gently.

“I think Roman is dumb and doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

A voice in his head tuts.

“You’re… in love with me?”

“Of course I am.”

Logan blinks. “I suppose then I have something to admit.”

There is a glimmer of hope in Remus’ chest, but there is an even bigger, overwhelming sense of dread. Either way, his head hurts.

“I… like you. A lot.”

Fifty-three; Remus could hear that over and over and over again and never grow tired of it.

“You do?”

He could feel his breathing relax, feel his chest soften.

Logan nodded, looking as composed as ever if not for the faint pink blush and nervous hand twitches. “I do.”

And the pain in Remus’ chest disappeared like it had never even been there.

~~~

Remus was far, far off being intelligent. But what he knew, he knew well.

And what he knew was this:

One; Remus was very, very, very, very, very, very in love with Logan.

Two; Logan loved him back.

Three; that was fucking cool as shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really sorry the ending is so trash but it was around here that my sanders sides hyperfixation began to run out, so the last two chapters were.. kind of bad, and i want to apologise for that because i really wanted this to be good. im sorry ;-;

**Author's Note:**

> and thats the end!! i really hope you enjoyed :D
> 
> i'd tell you to follow me on tumblr (@/the-pigeon), but i dont post sanders sides anymore its just mcyt so idk
> 
> but happy holidays! merry christmas if you celebrate it! and i hope you have a great day lotus :3


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